


Pandora's Box

by writingfortherapeutic_reasons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (kinda), Adult Hermione Granger, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Hermione Granger, Bonding, Claustrophobia, Conflicted Hermione Granger, Conflicted Severus Snape, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Good Severus Snape, Hermione Granger Has PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Love Triangles, Morally Grey Severus Snape, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, POV Hermione Granger, POV Severus Snape, Paranoia, Pining, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Severus Snape Has PTSD, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Severus Snape Lives, Severus Snape is Bad at Feelings, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Unresolved Tension, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:54:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28362006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfortherapeutic_reasons/pseuds/writingfortherapeutic_reasons
Summary: Somewhere deep underground, Hermione Granger wakes up.Voldemort has won the Battle of Hogwarts and killed the Boy Who Lived, leaving Wizarding Britain firmly in his grasp. Just a scattered resistance movement opposes him. It seems the only way Hermione can escape her dark cell and continue her fight against the Dark Lord's regime is with the help of a certain Severus Snape.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Severus Snape, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape, Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 30
Kudos: 70





	1. Echo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a/n: for the purposes of this story, Voldemort does not have the Resurrection Stone and the Invisibility Cloak. They are hidden somewhere in the Forbidden Forest where Harry dropped them, and will not be making an appearance. Having defeated Harry, Voldemort is now the true owner of the Elder Wand. Hermione has finished her final year at Hogwarts and is therefore not underage, and I would not be writing this fic if she was. 
> 
> Now that that's out of the way - fasten your seatbelts - you're in for a bumpy ride.

_He had an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again. (F. Scott Fitzgerald, 'The Great Gatsby')_

**Hermione**

She wakes up in chains. Her cell has the rotting stench and stifling claustrophobia of somewhere deep underground. 

Hermione Granger lets out a scream, knowing no-one will listen. 

She closes her eyes, and is back in the grey rubble that once was the courtyard of Hogwarts. It reeks of blood and doom and hopelessness, and her colourful childhood memories have drifted away with the wind. 

It begins with Neville.

After he has finished mutilating Harry's corpse and the traitors have gone over, Voldemort allows his faithful lieutenant to have the first kill. Neville stands tall and brave while Bellatrix laughs in his face. He spits in hers, and is dispatched by a bolt of green light before anymore is said. They drag his body away, and dump it unceremoniously next to the carcass that used to be Hermione's best friend. 

Voldemort's snake eyes land on her next, and she knew this moment would come eventually, but didn't think it would be so soon.

'And now for Potter's _mudblood_ friend.' He spits the word out, like the hatred burns his mouth. 

Ron is screaming. 

Hermione legs begin to shake uncontrollably, but she stands, as straight as she possibly can. She looks once more at Ron's sweet face, but tears are clouding her vision, so all she can make out is a shock of ginger hair. 

Red eyes bore into brown ones. The Death Eaters surround their master, and for some reason, there seem to be more than there were before Harry died. Lucius is relieved, because at least for him, it's all over. Bellatrix is triumphant; Draco looks like he's going to be sick. Snape stands nearest to Voldemort, who's beginning to lazily raise his wand. 

For some horrific reason, Hermione wants to beg. In the back of her mind, even after everything that's happened, school etiquette is still nestled deep: Snape was her teacher, and teachers don't let bad things happen to students, even if they were never on the best of terms. 

Teachers certainly don't stand by while a former student is about to be murdered. 

If he can tell what Hermione's thinking, Snape doesn't react. His black eyes are as impassive as ever. 

_I'm ready to join Harry._

For a second that lasts hours, there's silence. 

Then the curse hits her, and merciful darkness descends. 

In the time that passes after she wakes up, Hermione doesn't continue to view the darkness as merciful. It smothers her so she feels like she's suffocating and causes her to lose all track of time. 

She doesn't know how long she's been down here. 

She doesn't know why she's still alive. 

Only one person has been known to have survived the killing curse, and that person died in the Forbidden Forest. However, Hermione, being who she is, can make an educated guess.

Harry went to his death to stop Voldemort from putting the entirety of Hogwarts to the sword. When his mother died to save him, her sacrifice protected him, causing the curse to rebound on Voldemort and defeating him in the process. 

For a brief moment, when Hermione realises this, she thinks that Voldemort's curse in the courtyard might have rebounded on him, which is why she's still alive. But common sense triumphs over hope, because if Voldemort had died, she wouldn't be incarcerated here. She can only guess that Harry's sacrificial protection, having been extended to such a large amount of people, was enough to stop the killing curse from claiming her life, but not enough to rebound on its caster. Hermione tries to hope for Ron, for her friends, but as the weeks merge into months in the darkness, her capacity for hope diminishes. 

The guard who brings in her food won't tell her anything, even when she begs and screams and cries, and she knows that the Death Eaters would still have been able to murder her classmates without the assistance of their master. 

Hermione tries desperately to keep her mind occupied. She takes to reciting the Gryffindor values over and over again, as often as she can.

_Brave at heart, daring, nerve, chivalry - brave at heart - brave at heart -_

It's hard for her to be brave when she finally sees daylight again. 

As she's dragged into a mine cart - after so long in chains, her legs have collapsed beneath her - Hermione realises that she has been imprisoned in an empty vault underneath Gringotts. Reluctantly, she admits that this was a very effective move on the part of the Death Eaters. The cart propels her up through the ground, passing gloomy caves and ethereal waterfalls - with a pang, she remembers her, Ron and Harry's attempt to break into Bellatrix's vault - until a chink of light appears in the distance, rapidly growing larger and larger. 

The bright lights of the entrance hall's chandeliers threaten to blind her completely. Through the burning and the swelling tears - Hermione has to sink her teeth into her lip so as not to scream - she can only just make out the rows of goblins working calmly at their stations. 

_It's not so different here._

Perhaps there is slightly more security, but the bank of Gringotts has not changed much under Voldemort's rule. 

This faint glimmer of hope is crushed the second the guards force Hermione out into the daylight of Diagon Alley. The old shops that she used to visit before the start of term - _Madam Malkin's_ , _Flourish and Blotts_ \- have all been boarded up. With a sick jolt, she notices that Fred and George's joke shop has been vandalised, all of their hard work destroyed or left to decompose in the street. Hermione wonders where George is now. 

_Probably buried under the earth, with no headstone to remember him by._

Countless beggars crouch in filthy shop doorways. A government official, with a pompous expression that reminds Hermione horribly of Percy, aims a vicious kick at one before beginning to attach a red poster to a wall with a flick of his wand. 

_It's a Wanted poster -_

But before Hermione can look any further, a calloused hand grabs hold of her arm and she's pulled, once again, into blackness. 

'I'm not muggl - I'm not a mudblood! My mother was a witch! _Please_ , you have to believe me, my mother was a witch - _my mother_ -'

The statue is still there, taking centre stage in the great performance that is the Ministry of Magic. 

It has the uncomfortable architectural advantage of being so grisly that one can't help but look at it - at least, that is how it is for Hermione, but this time she can only observe it out of the corner of her eye. 

She's staring at the man being carried away. 

For a moment, her mind feels numb, before she springs into action, struggling and screaming and flailing her useless legs to no avail. They overpower her in seconds.

'I wouldn't try that again, little girl.'

She wonders what she would have done, had she managed to escape. 

_I would have helped the man._

Maybe her capacity for hope does remain.

\- 

Voldemort's voice is high and cold, and exactly as Hermione remembers it. 

'For some reason, _mudblood_ , you did not succumb to the will of my wand.'

The smooth oak of the Elder Wand moves slowly through his skeletal fingers as he passes it from hand to hand. 

'No matter.' 

The snake rests on his shoulders. It fixes Hermione with the hypnotic gaze of all reptilians, taunting her. 

_He cannot make another Horcrux. His soul would become so damaged he would cease to exist, like last time._

She, just as Harry had been, is so close, and yet so far. 

'The others did.' 

Knowing the truth deep down is different to hearing it out loud, and Hermione feels as if she's been punched in the gut. 

_Harry's sacrificial protection - he's lying -_

_So what if he is? The Death Eaters will have killed them all anyway._

Her eyes burn with tears and the effort to retain at least some of her pride by not letting them fall. Too late. 

Bellatrix's maniacal cackle is followed by Voldemort's, and then Lucius Malfoy joins in for fear of not doing so, and then the whole room is roaring with laughter. 

She wants to vomit, and cry, and scratch all their eyes out, but Hermione forces herself to stand as tall as her slowly recovering legs will allow it and survey her surroundings through the veil of tears. There's Voldemort, the snake, Bellatrix, Dolohov, the Malfoys, some others she's never seen before, and - 

Snape. 

A smirk plays around the corners of his mouth. 

Somehow this is worse than the outright laughter. White hot hatred boils in Hermione's gut. 

'Your _beau_ made a particularly good show of it,' says Voldemort. 'Sobbing and begging for mercy until the end, was he not, Severus?'

_Ron Ron Ron Ron Ron -_

'Indeed, my lord. I recall that his face became as red as his hair.' 

_You fucking_ **_bastard -_**

She knows that Voldemort's lying about Ron, but what does it matter? _He's dead anyway_. _And Harry and Fred and George and Ginny and Luna and Neville oh god oh god -_

The tears fall in waves, now. 

'You weep, mudblood, but surely you must know by now what happens to those who oppose me. Unfortunately for you, you also chose to do so, meaning you will be put to death in exactly twenty-eight days time.'

When Hermione was a child, she used to dream about being chased, but would always wake up before the monster could catch her. 

'Take her away.' 

**Severus**

Severus Snape doesn't like to think about his childhood. But nightmares are nightmares, and have never been very considerate of the wishes of their recipients.

He dreams of a small boy with black hair that needs a cut, huddled in a corner. The shadow of the raised fist is distorted, like a monster's claw in a fairytale, but the woman's scream is clear as glass. 

Women's screams have always haunted Severus. First there was his mother, and the sound he hears in his dreams is dragged straight from his cold childhood reality. 

He never heard Lily scream. When the killing curse struck, he wasn't there, but the nightmares have told him that he didn't need to be there to know what it sounded like. 

More recently, however, it's the screams of the Granger girl that won't leave him alone. She'd yelled as she'd been dragged from the room, and he'd heard her cries echoing through the pathways of the Ministry even after the door had slammed shut. 

He doesn't know why it bothers him so. He's turned countless blind eyes to screams before, blocking any feeling from his mind and forcing himself to think of Lily. Perhaps it is because she was his student. An insufferable know-it-all, to be sure, but still his student, and years of teaching in the dungeons of Hogwarts must have instilled even in him some semblance of duty and protective care. 

Perhaps it is because she was Potter's best friend, besides Weasley, of course. 

For some reason, it pains Severus to know that she believes Weasley is dead. The sacrificial protection, as he had later explained to Voldemort, that Potter must have given Granger when he died would likely also have extended to Weasley and the rest of the students. The multiple rounds of Cruciatus he had endured for failing to inform the Dark Lord of this anomaly were infinitely better than the certain death that awaited him, had Voldemort believed that Granger's immunity to his curse was down to the Elder Wand still belonging to Severus. 

Luckily, Severus's copious hours spent in the library as a student meant that Voldemort did not have to murder his most faithful servant before he went to meet Potter in the Forest - he only had to win the wand from him using a simple disarming spell. 

It was also lucky, perhaps only for the Dark Lord himself, that he saw himself above personally dispatching muggleborns and blood traitors when he claimed victory in the courtyard of Hogwarts. After he noticed that his killing curse had only made Granger lose consciousness, he gave orders to move her body quickly out of sight, so no other keen eyes would notice that in one respect, Lord Voldemort had been defeated. 

Not willing to risk another mishap and, as a test of their loyalty, Voldemort had ordered his Death Eaters to dispose of the rest of the resisters. Bellatrix had been beside herself with glee, Draco looked as if his legs would give out underneath him and Severus had done what he always did - close his mind against his heart and obey.

He has failed Lily, in a sense. Potter is dead and Voldemort is alive. 

_Potter's friends are still_ _alive._

A few students managed to escape Hogwarts. The eccentric Lovegood girl was one, as well as Weasley's sister. They'd been pursued by Death Eaters through the crumbling corridors of the castle and had disappeared once they reached what remained of the seventh floor. They made use of the Room of Requirement and the many tunnels that lead out of the school, Severus suspects. Severus also suspects that this ragged resistance movement is what was behind the arson attack on Avery's home and his subsequent disappearance, occurring exactly a month after Voldemort's victory. 

He wants to feel hope, but won't allow himself. Hoping, he has found, only ever leads to disappointment. 

Instead, he tries to work with what is available, even if he cannot see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. 

_Potter is dead, but his best friends are not._

Voldemort had kept Ronald Weasley alive - one could not expect the Dark Lord to give up the satisfaction of murdering Potter's two closest friends himself. In the gloom of Malfoy Manor, hours after Potter's death, he cast the killing curse on the unconscious bodies of Weasley and Granger again and again, until, with a howl of frustration, he threw the wand aside and turned on Severus. 

Still suffering from the aftershocks of the Cruciatus, Severus had looked at the unconscious girl next to him. The tears that crystallised her motionless lashes made him feel a strange sense of pity. 

Perhaps - 

'Perhaps, my lord, it would be wise to keep them both alive, for information about the ones who escaped.' 

_Harry_ _is_ _gone_ _, but his best friends are not._

Lily could have whispered it in his ear. 

It would be far too suspicious to risk being seen in the company of the two of them and then having both escape. 

Severus Snape is a paranoid man. He does not take chances. 

It can only be one. 

The question is - who?


	2. Underworld

**Hermione**

She never thought the thing that would come most close to defeating her would be the dark. 

If Hermione had been allowed to prepare for her death in a cell where there was light, she could have been tortured to a pulp and wouldn't have minded. But when she realised she was being dragged back to her Gringotts prison - that was when her composure cracked, and the screams came.

She tries to count the days until it will all be over, but once again, she's lost track of time. 

_And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light._

She doesn't want to believe that she hears footsteps outside her door. 

This time, when candlelight floods the room, Hermione is prepared. Her eyes squeezed tight shut mean she can't see the tall figure in the sweeping black robes, but the second he speaks, she recognises the deep voice. 

'Miss Granger.' 

Suddenly, she doesn't care about her sight anymore, wrenching her eyes open and ignoring the sting. The hatred Hermione feels for the man standing in front of her makes her head swim. 

'You cowardly piece of _shit -'_

'Insults can only be afforded by those in advantageous positions, Miss Granger, so I suggest you hold your tongue.' 

The cell door slams shut. 

Snape surveys her, his face an emotionless mask. For a moment, Hermione feels shame at how she must look - her hair even more of a bird's nest than usual, her face and body caked in soot and grime. Then she reminds herself that it's _Snape_ in front of her, and why should she care what he thinks of her appearance? Hermione remembers him cruelly stating that he saw no difference when Draco enlarged her front teeth back at school. 

That meant so much to her, then. 

_I'll bring him down to my level._

'I have been sent here by -' 

And she spits in his face. 

The joy she feels when he flinches - Hermione hasn't felt that way in months. But the momentary sign of weakness is gone as soon as it came, and Snape wipes her saliva off his cheek with disgust. 

'The Dark Lord.' 

_That's it?_

She wants him to swear, yell, curse her into oblivion, _anything_ to show that she's opposing Voldemort and his followers somehow, after all these useless hours spent in the dark. Instead, he'd flicked her away like she was some gnat.

Typical. 

_'What for?'_ Hermione hisses. 

'Do not take that tone with me, Miss Granger.' 

'You're not my teacher anymore -' 

Snape sighs irritably, and takes out his wand. 

'I'm going to die anyway, so I don't even know why you bother.'

He ignores her. 'The Dark Lord wants to know where members of a resistance movement against him would be hiding.' 

She says it before she can stop herself. 'There's a _resistance?'_

 _That's why there was a Wanted poster._ Hope swells in Hermione's heart. _Some of them are still alive -_

'It would be foolish to assume that a ruling power did not encounter opposition, especially in times such as these. Yes, Miss Granger, there is a resistance - a relatively small and insignificant one, but a resistance nonetheless, and the Dark Lord wants it...' He searches for the right word. 'Eliminated.'

For one small, breathless moment, Hermione thinks that it just might be alright.

'And you are going to tell me where to find them.'

Snape's voice brings her back to reality. Hermione had never ruled out being tortured as a consequence of her imprisonment, but to be faced with it _now -_

_I won't let him see me cry._

She remembers Bellatrix, and the gleaming blade, and her own screams. 

'Never.' 

Snape sneers. 'The indomitable courage - or should I say stupidity - of Gryffindors is as unmatched as ever, I see. Is there any chance of you changing your mind?'

_Oh, just get on with it you stupid greasy git -_

'I thought not. _Legilimens.'_

\- 

Hermione is a reasonably capable Occlumens. She does not know whether this is good or bad. 

She lies, trembling and shaking, on the floor of her cell. Being an accomplished Legilimens, Snape has managed to rake through a number of her memories over the last half hour. Some, Hermione has been able to stop him seeing. 

They both know he doesn't have all the information Voldemort needs. 

He tries the Imperius Curse. She forces herself to fight it off, because she doesn't want to give anything away, even though she knows what's coming next. 

_Why hasn’t he done it already? It would be far simpler, for him._

Maybe not. Maybe Snape's stomach is more delicate than Hermione previously thought. She wants to laugh and scream and beg for him to use Veritaserum at the same time, even though she knows that now all of its supplies will belong to Voldemort and Voldemort alone. 

There's a thin sheen of sweat on her former Potion master's forehead. 

'Tell me where to find the Resistance.' 

Hermione presses her burning forehead to the cold floor.

'No.' 

If someone had told her younger self that the snarky Professor who set too much homework (for everyone else, never for Hermione) would one day be about to use an illegal torture curse on her, she would have booked them an overnight stay in St. Mungo's. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Snape raise his wand, and waits for the blow. 

It never comes. 

There's silence, and then Hermione starts to laugh. It's a cold, throaty cackle that she's never heard before. 

_'You can't do it._ Voldemort's most faithful follower - you killed _Dumbledore -_ and you can't even Crucio a _teenager -'_

Her laughs ring out hollowly around the cell, and soon they turn into screams. 

'Do it! Do it, you _coward,_ you fucking _coward -'_

He takes hold of the candle and turns to leave. 

_He's taking the light -_

'No! No, come back! Don't leave! Please, don't leave, don't leave, _don't leave -'_

**Severus**

He's trying to modify the memories of the guards. 

It would be easier if the girl stopped screaming. 

\- 

All Hogwarts students learn how vast a place Gringotts Bank is, but today, Severus experiences its enormity firsthand. The journey from one vault to another just like it takes at least an hour, even by mine cart. 

\- 

'Weasley.' 

_She'd looked skeletal - her ribcage jutting out, her neck scrawny._

'What've you done with Hermione, you sick _fuck -'_

_Did he hear her screams too?_

'That's none of your concern.' 

_No, he can't have done. They're too far away from each other for that._

'Then why are you even here? If you've come to mock me, go ahead, I'm not going to be alive much longer so I don't really care anymore -' 

'I've not come to mock you.' 

'For the love of Merlin, just tell me why you're here and then _leave - me - alone.'_

Severus is all too happy to oblige. 'The Dark Lord wants to know where members of a resistance movement against him would be hiding,' he repeats monotonously. 

_Why am I bothering? I've already good as made up my mind._

He hadn't decided when he entered her cell, of course. 

_I couldn't do it. I couldn't curse her, not like that._

_Could you do it now?_

Let it not be said that Severus doesn't try. But the boy resists, as he suspected he would - both the Legilimency and the Imperius curse. Perhaps there is something to be said for Gryffindors after all. 

Lily was strong, too. 

'Go on, then,' whispers Weasley. 'Do it. I've felt worse. Your master's made sure of that.' 

What else can he do? He has to send Granger somewhere. She can't stay at Spinner's End forever, especially when she's recovered from her captivity.

Severus raises his wand. For a moment, his hand trembles - and then it steadies. 

He closes his mind. 

_Do it! Do it, you coward, you fucking coward -_

_'Crucio!'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! sorry that this was such a short update, next one will be up very soon and will be longer :))


	3. Rebirth

**Hermione**

It can't be long, now. 

She wants her mum and dad. The fact that they are somewhere in Australia, oblivious to the fast-approaching murder of their only daughter, feels like a knife in Hermione's heart.

She wants the safety of her Hogwarts dormitory and the warm fires of the common room. She wants Harry and Ron. 

_I’ll see them, soon enough._

God, even Snape trying to torture her would do. At least there would be light. At least there would be someone with her, even if she hates him with every inch of her being. She hates herself, too, for begging him to stay. 

_It was because of the light -_

_Was it?_

Hermione falls into an uneasy sleep. 

\- 

'Wake up, Miss Granger, and be quick about it.' 

'Wha -'

'Come with me.'

'Wait - stop! Where are you taking me? _Stop!'_

Is she imagining it, or does Snape's usually guarded face look flustered? The tall man swims before Hermione; her forehead is scorching hot and her skin feels clammy. 

The large hand that closes over her bare wrist must sense it too. 'You are coming down with a fever. Quick, follow me.' 

'But where are we _going?'_

Snape doesn't reply, and drags Hermione out of the vault. Her legs have grown accustomed to chains again and threaten to collapse beneath her.

_Oh my God -_

Hermione gasps. The guards who keep watch outside her cell door are crumpled on the ground, dead to the world. 

'I have stunned them and altered their memories, so that when the Dark Lord uses Legilimency, he will see them helping you escape,' says Snape. 

_'WHAT?'_

Silence.

'I am on your side, Miss Granger.' 

_It can't be true._

'But - you killed Dumbledore -' 

'There is no time to explain. We need to go, now.' 

'No! No, stop, WAIT!' 

Snape turns towards her with an irritable sigh. Hermione tries to search his eyes for the truth, but once again, the bottomless pools of black give nothing away. 

'How do I know this isn't a trick? You were going to _torture_ me -‘ 

‘The near-torturing was something I would very much have liked to avoid, had I had a choice.’

‘But this could still be - how do I know you’re not lying about being on our side?’

Snape purses his lips in annoyance, broad shoulders tensing under black robes. Hermione's feverish head spins, and she can feel consciousness starting to ebb away. 

‘You don’t. Which is why I'm asking you to trust me.' 

_Trust him? Trust the man who killed Dumbledore and worked with Voldemort and nearly tortured me -_

But what choice does she have? 

Hermione nods weakly, and Snape lets out a relieved breath. 'Good. We will be apparating - Miss Granger?' 

His arms catch her as she falls. 

**Severus**

The girl is light as a feather. Severus can feel the bones in her back, like they're about to burst out of her skin. Her lips are slightly parted, and there's a small dusting of freckles on her nose. 

He doesn't waste any more time. Severus picks her up in his arms - they will be able to apparate, now they are out of range of the vault's protective enchantments - and pulls them both into the dark.

**Hermione**

She wakes up to the smell of books. 

Ever since Hermione was a child, she's loved the smoky, almond smell of old paper and ink. There is a reason her favourite place in the world is the library at Hogwarts.

Her first instinct on waking up alone in a strange place would be to grab her wand and search for a way out, but Hermione's wand has probably been destroyed by the Death Eaters, and the scent of old hardbacks keeps her calm. Slowly, she stands up, her flimsy legs wobbling. She still feels a little dazed, but knows enough to realise the worst of her fever is behind her. 

In front of her resides a shabby, overflowing wooden bookshelf, which is where the glorious smell comes from. A candle burns in the corner of the room because all the blinds are drawn - a safety precaution, Hermione expects, and there's a small mirror next to the door - 

_Oh God._

The last time Hermione saw herself was in Fleur's mirror at Shell Cottage. She's never liked the way she looked, especially not her bushy hair. But she'd had dimples when she smiled, and when her hair _was_ sorted out, she could look quite nice. 

Now, her face is skeletal. Purple shadows sweep under her eyes, and her skin has the deathly pallor of someone who has not seen the sun. Her cheeks have sunken in, and when Hermione drags a hand through her knotted hair, great clumps come out in her clenched fists. 

_If only Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle could see me now. They'd have a field day._

She sinks her teeth into chapped lips to keep from crying. 

_At least I'm not dirty anymore. And I'm not wearing rags._

Hermione's in a huge black jumper that ends just above her knees, her skinny legs sticking out comically underneath it. The heat of embarrassment hits her when she realises Snape would have had to change her clothes. 

_Snape -_

It all comes flooding back. Hermione's mind whirrs with questions, causing her to pick nervously at the sleeve of the jumper she's in until she makes a hole in the wool and stops herself. 

_Trust him to only have black clothes._

For a few moments, she stands still, thinking. Then Hermione takes a deep breath and walks to the door, cringing at the loud noise it makes as she pushes it open. 

He's sitting in an armchair, his back to her. The blinds are drawn in here, too. When he hears the door, Snape's head whips around, and their eyes meet. Hermione doesn't know what to say. It seems he doesn't either. There's a stifling, awkward silence, until she blurts out the first thing that comes into her head. 

'I need a wand.' 

Is Hermione imagining it, or does a ghost of a smile pass over his face? If there was one, it's gone as soon as it came. 

'As practical as ever, I see,' says Snape. 

_I thought I was an insufferable know-it-all?_

He stands up, placing the book he was reading carefully back down onto the chair, and strides over to a mantelpiece where a wand lies. 

'Here, take this.' And, softer: 'It was my mother's.' 

'Thank you,' Hermione whispers. Suddenly, she's acutely aware of her exposed legs and how close he's standing. Hermione takes the wand from him. It's firm and supple, and should hold its own in a fight. 

'Thank you,' she says again awkwardly, and then looks away, embarrassed. 

Snape raises an eyebrow. 'Lost for words, Miss Granger? Well, I suppose there's a first time for everything.' He stalks back to his armchair like an overgrown bat, and the moment has gone, and Hermione can breathe again. _That's the bastard I know._

Snape beckons her to another armchair that stands opposite his. 'Don't dawdle, Granger, there's a lot for me to explain and not much time in which to do so.'

\- 

She's supposed to apparate from Spinner's End at exactly half-past twelve, but when Snape tells her about Harry being raised by Dumbledore as a 'pig for slaughter', as he himself puts it, even the normally uncompromising Potions master agrees that Hermione is in no fit state to travel. 

It it more about the amount of _time_ Harry spent with the man that upsets Hermione. Precious time that he could have spent with her and Ron, being happy with his friends - instead, he was manipulated and pushed onto a path that would eventually result in certain death. And by Dumbledore himself, the man he had most admired and trusted - _and now Dumbledore and Harry and Ron are all dead, and it's just me, and oh god what am I going to do -_

She's grown tired of trying to hold back tears and just lets them fall. When Snape tells her that she should not be surprised about Dumbledore and that she should not put so much faith in the morality of others, a raging fury grips hold of her and she flies at him, the nails that have grown long in captivity scratching thin red ribbons down his face.

_How dare you tell me how to feel, you sick bastard - you were going to torture me - you're still torturing me - why should I even trust you - why do I trust you -_

He's strong, though, managing to grab her shaking fists and holding her back as she kicks and screams. 

She spends the next two hours in the corner of the room, curled into a ball. Memories of the horrors Hermione has witnessed become red and black waves that crash furiously against the walls of her mind and then withdraw, only to strike again.

Snape spends those two hours brewing a sleeping draught. Once it's finished, he holds her chin with surprising gentleness, tipping her mouth open and pouring the liquid down her throat. Hermione, who's been beating her fists feebly against his chest, feels a velvety calm spread through her veins. Her eyelids close, the waves withdraw for the last time, and blackness envelopes her. 

\- 

_This bed is so soft, so warm, and I never want to leave it again._

Hermione opens her eyes a fraction, her head still swimming with the after effects of the sleeping draught. Snape is sitting near her, reading a book. _War and Peace,_ it's called. 

'That's a Muggle book,' she murmurs, and Snape jumps. Hermione smiles lazily. One of the after effects of the sleeping draught is a slight delirium that will eventually wear off, and in said delirious state, making a man as serious as Snape jump nearly a mile with shock seems hilarious. 

'Indeed. How are you feeli -'

'That tea looks nice.' He's holding a steaming mug in his hand.

Snape raises an eyebrow. 

'What's in it?' asks Hermione. 

'I - honey and lemon.' 

_'Ah._ Did you know that in times of war, _not_ peace, prisoners of war used to send letters home using lemon juice that were invisible to the naked eye? All their loved ones would have to do to read them was heat them with a light bulb or something.' 

'No, I - I did not know that.' 

'Just goes to show you how ingenious muggles are, really, doing all those things without magic.' 

Snape looks down at the tattered copy in his hands. 'I suppose it does,' he says quietly.

For a moment, there's silence.

'Have you read it?' asks Snape.

If Hermione wasn't drugged, she'd be shocked. Maybe an element of surprise does appear on her face - 

'I shouldn't even have asked, you've probably read every Tolstoy back to front.'

'No, that's not - that's not why I was surprised,' Hermione says. 'But yes - I have read it. It was brilliant, but - pessimistic.' 

A smirk tugs at the corner of Snape's mouth. 'Realistic, you mean.'

Hermione sits up a little straighter.

If there's one thing she loves, it's a good debate.

'Realistic if you think the world is a cold, hopeless place.'

For a split second, Snape freezes, and Hermione thinks he's going to take fifty points from Gryffindor all over again. But then he unclenches his jaw and loosens his grip on _War and Peace._ His hands have the hardened, leathery skin that so often accompanies manual labour, as well as the strange, supple litheness of a musician.

_As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion making -_

'The world is discordant, Miss Granger, irrational.' Snape pauses. 'I don't believe humanity was ever intended to harmonise.' 

'Perhaps there is something good to be said for that,' Hermione retorts. 

He's just as quick as she is. 'Like the various conflicts that have plagued us since the beginning of time? The world blows hot and cold, Miss Granger, so much that I might even say it is terrible -' 

'And beautiful.' 

The sudden silence that follows makes Hermione realise how much effect the sleeping draught still has on her. Slowly, her eyes tip back - 

'You are still delirious. I will let you rest, and then -' 

Hermione's slipping back under the bedsheets, watching the figure in front of her. 

'You must go,' Snape mutters. 

His black cloak billows out behind him as he leaves the room. 

Hermione wants to ask him why, if he believes in such a cold reality, he is still fighting for Harry. 

_Harry never believed the world was cruel. Why do you risk your life everyday as a double agent and a spy if you believe so differently?_

Earlier, she'd asked him what had made him Dumbledore's man instead of Voldemort's. He'd changed the subject. 

Severus Snape is a puzzle she just can't figure out. 

Hermione can feel fog clouding her mind again and her eyes beginning to close. 

_I like puzzles,_ she thinks, as she drifts off to sleep. 

\- 

'You must apparate to Shell Cottage, on the outskirts of Tinworth. It is likely you will find members of the resistance there.' 

Hermione doesn't ask him how he knows this. She doesn't think she would like the answer. 

'Thank you,' she mutters, avoiding Snape's eyes. She's embarrassed about how she acted the other day, when she was still influenced by the sleeping draught. The worst part is, she doesn't think she was that influenced by it at all. 

Snape is clearly also uncomfortable. _Why else would he have avoided me all day?_

'I must thank you too - for the information you gave me.' 

Hermione's told him about the Horcruxes - that the last one is the snake, and that it needs to be killed with Basilisk venom. Snape has told her that Voldemort has had the Sword of Gryffindor destroyed, and that he will use his position as Hogwarts Headmaster to try and obtain a basilisk fang from the Chamber of Secrets. It is lucky Hermione memorised the Parseltongue that Ron spoke during the Battle, otherwise Snape would never be able to get in. 

Hermione wonders whether she should have told Snape about all of this. 

_I'm asking you to trust me._

And what choice does she have? 

It is blurted out before she can stop herself. 'If I - _we -_ ever need help again, could we come to you?' 

Snape hesitates; Hermione feels the hot blood of embarrassment rushing to her head. Then - 

'Yes.' 

That's enough for her. 

'Goodbye, Miss Granger.' 

His eyes are the colour of the night sky. 

'Goodbye, Professor.' 

Hermione closes her own, and focuses on a little cottage by the sea. 


	4. Labyrinth

**Hermione**

The salty sea breeze tugs its fingers through her hair. If Hermione cranes her neck, she can see Dobby's grave, nestled between the sand dunes. 

Fleur holds out her hand. She was the only one at Shell Cottage when Hermione arrived half an hour ago, and almost fainted when she saw the girl she thought was dead. She's dressed in black. 

_Bill must be dead, too._

'Come,' says Fleur. 'I will take you to zem.' 

Hermione laces her fingers with Fleur's, and takes a final breath of sea air. 

_This might be the last time you ever see the sea._

Hermione looks towards the horizon. The sun's beginning to set, staining the sky a deep red.

_Let's hope it doesn't come to that._

She's pulled into the dark. 

-

Even when her feet touch solid ground, Hermione is afraid that they are still apparating, because she can hardly see even a metre in front of her. 

'Don't worry,' says Fleur, sensing Hermione's discomfort. 'We had to move under ze ground. It was ze only way.' 

When Fleur tells her this, Hermione has to fight to stay calm. 

_All I want to be with is the night sky, not the sun, it's too bright and it burns my eyes, and definitely not under the earth -_

Visions of her captivity race through Hermione's mind as Fleur leads her through the gloom. 

\- 

_'Hermione!'_

'It's Hermione!' 

'What, Hermione _Granger?_ But I thought she was dead!' 

'Good luck,' Fleur tells her, smiling. 'I will be leaving now.' 

'Thank you for helping me,' Hermione whispers. 

Rows of heads are turning to stare at her, and for some reason, all she wants to do is go back to the peace and quiet of Spinner's End. A gaggle of onlookers is beginning to surround her, some who she recognises, most who she doesn't, all of them frantically asking questions - 

'Hello Hermione.' 

She lets out a sigh of relief at the sight of Luna's white blonde head. 

'Hi Luna,' she says. Luna is thinner, with circles under her eyes, but her smile is still kind. 

'Come with me,' says Luna. 'I think we should move away from this crowd, don't you?' 

Infinitely relieved, Hermione follows her friend through the chattering throng. They sit on the bottom bunk of a steel panelled bed in the corner of the room, which can only be described as a sort of underground cavern. Now that she is away from all the others, Hermione can finally take in her surroundings: rows upon rows of similar beds line the cavern in rigid formation, bathed in the harsh yellow glow of electric lighting to keep the underground darkness from enveloping them completely.

She can't help thinking how much softer her bed in Spinner's End was. 

'Hermione!' whispers Luna loudly into her ear, nearly making her jump out of her skin. 

'What? What is it?' 

'You had this dreamy look on your face.' 

'Did - did I? I didn't realise -' 

They're interrupted by a girl with long, tousled red hair. _'Ginny!'_

Hermione hugs her friend tightly, but is reminded of Ron with a pang. Suddenly, it feels like a heavy stone has settled in her stomach, and all she wants to do is curl up and sleep for centuries. 

\- 

Once she has explained her theory about Harry's sacrificial protection, Hermione tells them about the Horcruxes. Unable to resist the pull of celebrity and unsatisfied with mere speculation, more resistance members have gathered around her bed to listen. She recognises Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Parvati Patil and Cho Chang, but the rest who surround her are strangers. 

_How many of the people I love have died, for there to be so few of them here today?_

She scans the small crowd again. 

_Ginny must have been the only one of her family to survive._

She imagines a mass grave like the photographs of ones in Muggle history books, piled high with bodies. Ron lies at the top. 

'So all we need to do is kill the snake!' says Seamus excitedly, pulling Hermione out of the maze that is her mind. 

'With basilisk venom,' she reminds him. 'And the only way we'll be able to do that is with -' 

But she doesn't get to tell them about Snape, because Parvati points out that they'd still need to defeat Voldemort himself, and he has the Elder Wand. 

'Although I suppose it would be easier for those of us who have Harry's protection.' 

There's a bubble of chatter, everyone beginning to talk at once. Hermione is exhausted and can't get a word in edgeways, even though she's adamant she'll explain about Snape's plan to enter the Chamber of Secrets before the night is through.

_I don't believe humanity was ever intended to harmonise._

Hermione wonders what he's doing know, and whether he's finished _War and Peace._

'Maybe we should explain to Hermione what the resistance is actually doing to fight the Death Eaters instead of bickering amongst ourselves.' Ginny's voice rings out clear across the cavern, and there's quiet. Hermione notices the lines on Ginny's forehead, and suddenly realises how much older than her seventeen years she looks. She was Harry's girlfriend, Hermione remembers. 

_And all now all her family and her boyfriend are dead._

_I can't imagine the pain she's been through._

'Tell her about Avery!' someone shouts. There's whoops, and Ginny grins. 

'Well, thanks to Seamus here, the Death Eater Avery found himself in a very _hot_ spot a few months ago -' 

'I burned the fucker's house down!' yells Seamus, and everyone cheers. When it's quiet again, Ginny continues. 

'Allowing us to capture him and find out some crucial information. Avery, unfortunately -' Ginny looks piously up at the cavern ceiling and dramatically crosses herself - 'is no longer with us.' More laughs and cheers. 'But the information Avery gave up is not so funny.' 

Suddenly it's silent. 

'What information?' Hermione asks.

Ginny looks uncomfortable. 'About what Voldemort's regime is doing.' She takes a deep breath. 'Muggleborns are being rounded up, which we all know is happening because it's being done in plain sight, out on the streets. It's also obvious that most of them are being taken away to be killed. The resistance has managed to save a few. But it's what's happening to those who aren't being murdered that we didn't know about. 

'Mainly it's the men or older muggleborn women the Death Eaters kill. But because there aren't enough pureblood families to stop the magical population from dying out, younger muggleborn and halfblood women -' 

Ginny looks like she's going to be sick. 'They are presumed to be fertile, so they are used to carry and give birth to babies for pureblood families.' 

_My God._

Hermione feels faint. Her mouth is as dry as sand when she whispers, 'And - and what about the other halfbloods?' 

'They're seen as inferior members of society - not as low as muggleborns, but they're not allowed high-ranking jobs of any sort,' says Ginny.

 _Voldemort is a halfblood._ The hypocrisy makes Hermione's blood boil.

'Only halfbloods and purebloods are allowed to attend Hogwarts now, and they're taught separately, depending on blood status.' 

'And they're taught things like - like -' 

'Whatever horrible things Snape wants to teach them, I suppose.' When she mentions the Headmaster's name, Ginny spits on the floor. 

_No, Hermione, don't say it -_

_I don't care._

'Snape saved me. He freed me from my prison. Yes, he killed Dumbledore, but Dumbledore planned for him to and he was dying anyway. Severus has been on our side all along.'

It's all out in a hot, uncomfortable rush. Everyone's staring at her, gobsmacked, and she wants the ground to swallow her whole.

_Severus?_

Hermione sits still, despising herself. 

Ginny is the first to speak. 'You're lying. Snape is a Death Eater.'

'He's not!' 

It comes out angrier than Hermione intends. She blushes scarlet. 

_What's happening to me?_

'He killed Dumbledore -'

'Like I said, Dumbledore wanted him to.' 

The murky shadows of the cavern are reflected on Ginny's face. Her expression is stony. 

'He saved you, you say?'

Hermione's hands are shaking. 'Yes.' 

'Then why didn't he save Ron?' 

For a moment, Hermione's lost for words. The fragile worldview that she's built up over the past few months shatters, and the air is sucked from her lungs. 

'Ron - Ron's _alive?'_ she croaks. 

She knows she should be jumping for joy, but she can't. 

_Why didn't he save him - why didn't he tell me -_

'Yes,' says Ginny. All her former warmth has gone. 'A few days ago, Wizarding Britain was told that the traitor Ronald Weasley would be publicly executed in two weeks time, as an example to others who would think to oppose Voldemort.' Her voice is laced with malice. 'Your saviour didn't tell you this, I suppose? Even though it's highly likely he would have known.' 

Hermione shakes her head mutely. The shock of the moment passes, allowing a feeling of self-hatred unlike anything Hermione's ever felt before to brew in her veins. 

_Severus knew about Ron and he left him to die and saved me instead -_

_Ron should be here with his sister - I don't even have any family left. And I was sitting in Spinner's End talking about fucking_ books _while he's rotting in a cell somewhere -_

'I think you may have been taken for a ride.' There's a grim satisfaction to Ginny's voice. 'I wouldn't be surprised if there's some other motive for Snape setting you free and deliberately leaving Ron behind - probably wants to lure us into some trap -'

There's angry murmurs and hisses of agreement from the crowd. 

Hermione doesn't know why she feels betrayed, why she ever thought there was a connection between her and her former professor that required any form of loyalty. Severus himself would probably laugh at her. 

_He told me not to put so much faith in the morality of others._

She stares at the sea of faces that surrounds her. Grins have turned into frowns and eyes are narrowing in Hermione's direction. 

_I can't let him win._

Ginny's turning away from Hermione. The only person who's really looking her in the eye is Luna. 

'I think Hermione wants to say something,' Luna says dreamily. 

_They're going to hate me for this._

_Not as much as I already hate myself._

'We need Severus Snape,' she says. 

Gasps echo across the cavern, and Ginny clenches her fists. Hermione forces herself to stay still. 

'Severus Snape is the reason my brother is going to die,' Ginny snarls. 'Or has the girl who passed all her OWLS with flying colours suddenly _forgotten?'_

'Of course I haven't. Which is precisely why we need him.' 

_I won't believe that he wanted to leave Ron behind I won't believe it I won't -_

Suddenly, there's a wand pointed in her face. Ginny's hand is trembling. 'Explain, _Granger,_ and make it quick.' 

Luckily, Hermione has been faced with worse than just a wand pointed at her, and manages to keep her voice reasonably steady. 

'He'll help us destroy the Horcruxes -' 

'That's not going to save my _brother!'_

'And he'll help us save Ron. Or does the resistance already have a plan?' 

Now it's Ginny's turn to look sheepish. 'We're still thinking -' 

'Our only hope to save Ron is if we have someone on the inside. Do we have a spy in Voldemort's ranks?' Hermione asks. 

There's murmurs, and the answer is clearly no. 

'Well, now we do.' 

Ginny drops her wand, defeated. 

'We need him,' Hermione repeats simply. 

\- 

Her father once told her that there is nothing wrong with making enemies, because it means that you have stood up for something, sometime in your life. 

Hermione tries to tell herself this as she makes her way to her steel-panelled bed, eyes staring accusingly at her as she walks past. She also tries to tell herself that she did what she did for Ron - which is partly true. 

She thinks of their first kiss in the Chamber of Secrets and smiles. His lips had felt soft and warm and safe, like home. 

It's the other part that scares Hermione. 

She's intrigued by him, she can't deny it anymore. Even after she's lied down and her eyes have closed, Hermione's brilliant mind continues to try to decipher the enigma that is Severus Snape, and why he is the way he is. 

_The man was going to torture you -_

_So he would know where to take me when he set me free -_

_And you can't stop thinking about him._

Hermione is not well-versed in the practise of self-hatred. She has always held others to a high standard morally - a standard that she has mostly been able to reach. 

Up until now. 

She tries to tell herself that it shouldn't matter, because he was on their side all along. 

_But he left Ron behind and he was going to torture me and God knows what other awful things he's done for Voldemort -_

Then she remembers that Voldemort has probably found out about her escape by now, and icy fear grips her heart. 

_Severus modified the memories of the guards -_

_But what if something went wrong?_

Hermione imagines the room in the Ministry of Magic that she was dragged into after months underground. She imagines Voldemort and the snake resting on his shoulders, and the laughs of his followers bellowing about the room, but it's not her in front of them this time. 

She sinks her teeth into her fist and tries to think about Ron, and how, with any luck, they'll see each other soon. Hermione envisions his kind eyes and mop of red hair and the happy hours they had spent together with Harry at the Burrow - 

_Inside. In an enclosed space, with only a few windows - I might as well have been trapped -_

She wants the infinite expanse of the night sky, and the questions and freedom that come with it. 

_His eyes were the same colour._

Hermione's sleep is troubled. 

**Severus**

He dreams his usual dream, where he's being dangled upside down by Potter and Black, and everyone's laughing at him. He shouts for Lily to stop as she turns her back on him, and that he's sorry for what he said. 

The laughs turn into screams, soon enough. 

'I wanted the girl to provide information about the resistance and then I wanted her _dead!'_ Voldemort's howls of fury are terrible to hear, and the cries of the guards as they are tortured will haunt Severus for years to come. 

The guards writh on the floor, but soon their screams are accompanied by someone else's. The voice is higher - a woman. _Lily._

Severus is running to the door of a suburban house, following the terrible sound. If he could just get there in time, he could save her - the door's getting closer and closer, he's never got this far before - 

He throws open the door, but he's not inside the Potter’s home. Instead, he's in the dark entrance hall of his own house at Spinner's End, and Lily's screaming has stopped. Another voice is calling out to him. Another woman. 

Severus turns the corner into his living room, and the Granger girl is standing in front of him. She's looking at him like she's trying to understand something, and _damn her,_ because he doesn't want to be understood -

She's wearing his jumper, and it has ridden up, showing him a thin pair of legs. 

'You shouldn't be here,' Severus tells the girl. 'Voldemort is looking for you, and the world is a cold, cruel place.'

'The world is cold and cruel, yes,' she agrees. 'But it's also very beautiful, if you know where to look.' 

Her eyes are bright and searching, and if he let himself, he could get lost in them - 

For a moment, Severus lets himself. 

'I need a wand.' 

He gives her the one that used to belong to his mother, but then he feels her warm fingers lacing over his - 

He turns away, reminded of Lily.

Severus is back in the vault at Gringotts. The girl is lying on the floor while he searches through her memories for something, _anything_ to go on, so he knows where to send her when she's free. He doesn't find what he's looking for. 

Instead, he sees a boy with red hair kissing the girl in an underground chamber as waves crash around them. When they break the kiss, they start to laugh, beaming at one another.

'Hermione,' whispers the boy. 

Hermione's eyes are bright with joy, and Severus wants to tear the boy apart. 


	5. Impossible Task

**Hermione**

A cold wind blows through the narrow streets of Wizarding London, and she grips Severus’s mother’s wand so hard it hurts.

_Students will be going back to Hogwarts soon._

Hermione is disguised as an old Muggle woman she stole a few hairs from - the Polyjuice Potion was grey, and had tasted of dust. She pushes her way through a silent crowd of onlookers and makes eye contact with a short blonde man. Ginny had reluctantly agreed to join the rescue mission, holding her nose and downing the potion only a few minutes earlier. Speckled through the crowd are other similarly disguised members of the resistance.

Armed ministry officials lurk in the wings.

There is no doubt whatsoever in Hermione's mind that it is Voldemort they answer to. 

The swarm of silent wizards stretches far back, because it is compulsory for those in the area to attend. Hermione knows Voldemort likes a spectacle, so the capital city seemed like an obvious place for Ron's execution - the large crowds made it even easier for the resistance to track down. 

Hermione looks up at the raised dais in front of her and freezes, an icy chill trickling down her spine.

Bellatrix Lestrange has appeared. Her mad eyes pan the crowd as she leers, showing a rotting set of teeth. Hermione wants to scream again as she imagines the knife opening up her arm - but she's distracted by the sudden appearance of a tall man in black. 

Before her captivity, Hermione would never have seen anything different about Severus in this situation. To her former self, he would have looked as uncaring as ever, but now, Hermione notices that his brow is furrowed with concentration.

She knows him better than she would like, she thinks. 

The last of the Death Eaters who will preside over Ron's execution are arriving. Hermione notices the white blonde heads of the Malfoy family - Draco looks exhausted, and she feels a jab of pity for the man who so recently was only just a boy, but it's not enough to override her hatred for the whole lot of them. 

_Except for Severus._

Hermione winces at the voice in her head, and tries to think about something else. 

_What I would give to curse them all now._

But she can't, because Voldemort would have ordered protective enchantments around the dais to be set up, to keep his followers safe. 

There’s a gasp of terror from the crowd.

_Speak of the devil._

At the sight of the Dark Lord himself, a part of Hermione wants to run screaming out of London and then out of the country, if possible. But she forces herself to look at his skeletal face and dead shark’s eyes as calmly as she can.

Voldemort sweeps past his followers, all of them cowering before him, towards his seat. He doesn’t have the snake with him, which Hermione expected.

Her breath catches in her throat as she sees where he’s sat down.

_He’s so close to Severus._

_Why does that bother you?_

Suddenly, Hermione’s pulled out of her thoughts by a resounding _crack,_ and - 

She wants to scream to Ron that she's here, and that he doesn't have to die, and how much she's missed him, and a million things at once that Hermione knows will have to be left unsaid. 

The expression on his face breaks her heart. 

Ron has lost a huge amount of weight in captivity, but under the dirt and the grime Hermione can see the red hair that is so unmistakably _him._ His legs are shaking, betraying his terror, but Ron stands tall and his eyes are free of tears. She knows exactly what he's thinking, and that's why it hurts so much. 

_I'm ready to join Harry._

'As a reminder to those who would also consider disobeying him -'

Hermione manages to tear her eyes away from her best friend because of the sickly fear that’s building in her gut. She glances at Severus. His eyes are still intently focused on something, but the rest of his face is its usual blank mask. 

_He needs to hurry up with the plan -_

'The Dark Lord has sentenced the traitor Ronald Weasley to die.'

Unlike Ron, she can't fathom what Severus is thinking. 

_I guess I'll never know, because even if I do survive today, I'll probably never see him again._

That thought hurts Hermione more than she wants to think about.

 _You’ll never see_ Ron _again if Severus doesn’t hurry up -_

The Death Eaters have taken their positions, and the executioner strides over to where Ron is standing, taking out his wand. There’s a smile on Voldemort’s thin lips.

_What is he fucking waiting for?_

Ron is pushed into a kneeling position, and Hermione’s composure nearly cracks.

But then she can feel black eyes boring into the side of her head, and all hell breaks loose. 

**Severus**

A few days earlier, Severus received a letter. 

It was an ordinary Muggle letter, delivered by a Muggle postman to the strange little house in Spinner's End. Severus opened it, confused - there was a Muggle stamp on it as well, and what Muggle would want to write to him? Voldemort certainly never sent letters. 

Severus almost laughed at the absurdity of the thought. 

His brow furrowed again when the envelope had been opened. In his hands lay a blank sheet of paper. 

Despite Severus's undoubtable intellect, it took him a while to figure it out. 

_She wouldn’t -_

And, with shaking hands, he took out his wand and cast a hot air charm over the paper. Slowly, brown letters appeared, spelling out a message. 

_She thought like a Muggle, because she knew Voldemort would never stoop so low._

Severus felt a pang of guilt for calling Hermione an insufferable know-it-all all those years ago, and then tried to push the feeling away. 

_Remorse is for Lily, only for Lily, if it's extended to anyone else it only makes me weak -_

_What about extended to_ her?

Luckily, he became distracted by what the letter said. 

_Dear Mr. Tolstoy,_ \- he couldn't help smiling then - 

_I hope this reaches you in time, and that you remembered what I said about lemon juice the last time we spoke._

_We need your help. Someone will be in great danger in four days from now, and you know who that someone is._

Anxiety gripped his heart - _she knows the Weasley boy is alive, and that I didn't save him_ \- but Severus made himself keep reading. 

_We have to save him, and you have the power to do so._

_Please protect the enchantments, and then disable them just before the deed is done._

The letter was unsigned, but Severus knew exactly who it was from, and his able mind allowed him to understand what Hermione was asking him to do. 

_She wants me to cast the protective enchantments around the execution site myself, so that I will be able to disable them in time for the resistance to rescue the boy._

And Severus didn't want to do it. 

Deep down, he knew the reason why, even if it frightened him more than he cared to admit. He thought back to his dream, about the girl kissing the boy in an underground chamber. 

_I don't want her to see him._

Severus sighed, and tossed the letter into the burning fireplace. He would do it for Lily, because she would want both her son's best friends to live. But only a small part of his soul would admit - 

_I don't want her to see the boy, but I can't let someone she cares about so deeply die, not when I have the option to prevent it._

He was doing it for Hermione, as well. 

-

_‘Imperio!_

'You will cast these exact protective enchantments around the execution site,' said Severus.

'Yes,' said the guard.

-

Severus watched Bellatrix prowl the site, her wand at the ready, with a small smirk on his face.

_She's making sure the enchantments are in place._

_You won't be disappointed, Bella._

_Yet._

-

Wandless magic is an incredibly difficult branch of magic to master, even for a wizard as accomplished as Severus. As soon as he takes his seat on the dais, the crowd below him eerily silent, he begins to work on removing the protective enchantments.

By the time he's halfway through, the Weasley boy is led out, and it's taking longer than he thought it would. It doesn't help that Severus knows Hermione is somewhere in the crowd, watching him through someone else's eyes.

'As a reminder to those who would consider disobeying him -'

Severus continues to mentally untangle the cobweb of spells, quicker and quicker now -

'The Dark Lord has sentenced the traitor Ronald Weasley to die.'

He's nearly there, pulling the final stitches apart, when a blinding pain pierces his skull. Severus has been a Death Eater long enough to know where this feeling comes from, and the fear that consequently fills him is raw and cold.

_Voldemort._

Severus doesn't have to time to consider why the Dark Lord is trying to read his mind, because he's desperately attempting to resist and disable the final enchantments at the same time.

He chances a glance at Voldemort, who’s forbidding expression remains the same.

The executioner is walking towards the boy, and all is very nearly lost; but Severus continues to work, slowed down by the legilimency Voldemort is using on him, when he feels a sudden surge of pity.

_They will not even let the boy say his last words._

As this thought rushes through his numb mind, Severus notices an old woman standing at the foot of the dais. She is making no attempt to hide the naked terror in her eyes, and he's seen that infuriatingly honest expression before.

She's haunted too many of his dreams for him not to recognise Hermione.

At that, the final knot is undone, and the protective entchantments are broken. A flash of green light hits the executioner in the chest, killing him instantly, and Weasley is thrown a wand. He catches it with a shaking hand, stunning Lucius Malfoy in one fell swoop.

'The resistance is here!' someone shrieks. The onlookers are terrified, pushing and shoving to escape the narrow street as spells are sent back and forth -

Voldemort has disappeared. With a grim satisfaction, Severus remembers that Potter’s sacrificial protection makes him vulnerable to certain resistance members.

'Don't let the boy get away!' howls Bellatrix, taking charge now that her master has fled and hurling herself into the throng. _'Fight!'_

Severus joins the other Death Eaters in fighting people he is beginning to recognise _\- the Polyjuice must be wearing off -_ duelling two at a time and skilfully deflecting curses that are thrown his way. But all the while his eyes search desperately through the screaming crowd, looking, looking for her.

Chaos has swept Hermione out of his sight.

There’s a glimmer of red hair as the resistance reaches the dais, and Severus is distracted by Ginny Weasley grabbing her brother and disapparating into the early morning mist and Bellatrix’s roar of fury -

‘Look out!’

He ducks in the nick of time, the green light of the killing curse narrowly missing his head.

_It’s her - that was her voice -_

Severus’s heart leaps in his throat as he sees Hermione, herself again, her eyes bright with fear and adrenaline. To his horror, she is duelling Bellatrix. Her anger at Weasley’s escape has made her all the more vicious, and the speed at which she’s hurling spells mean that Hermione is losing.

‘You little - Mudblood - _bitch!_ I should’ve killed you when I had the chance!‘

Hermione doesn't retort, her breathing laboured and heavy.

As aforementioned, wandless magic is difficult, so Hermione's wand has nearly slipped from her fingers before Snape mentally disarms Bellatrix.

 _Go, go_ _now -_

But she's looking at him.

_Why does she insist on making everything so difficult, damn her!_

There are questions in Hermione's eyes that Severus can’t answer.

_I left the boy behind to save you._

That's when she stuns Bellatrix and disapparates.

_A Slytherin would have done it the other way around._

Now that Weasley has been rescued, the last members of the resistance are escaping, leaving only a bloodstained dais strewn with dead bodies. 

Severus watches Narcissa Malfoy resuscitating her sister.

_Granger could have used the killing curse, and saved us a lot of trouble. Why does she always have to be so bloody moral?_

_I thought you liked that about her -_

He is diverted by Bellatrix regaining consciousness.

 _'Filthy - blood traitor -_ what will the Dark Lord _say?'_ She spits out blood.

'Ssh, Bella,' murmurs her sister, stroking her hair. 'Lie back now -'

Bellatrix pushes her hand away. 'NO! I must -'

And her gaze meets his.

Severus has never been a man to fear much, but the expression on Bellatrix's face makes his stomach turn with alarm.

_She saw how Granger looked at me -_

Bellatrix has the eyes of a cat that is about to begin playing with its prey.


	6. Paranoia

**Severus**

It has been said before that Severus Snape is a paranoid man, but in his line of work, paranoia is a necessary requirement. 

He goes to modify Bellatrix's memory, but she gets there first.

'Still nursing an attraction for mudblood women, Snape?'

Her wand is pointed at his face.

_Keep calm._

'I don't know what you're talking about, Bella.'

The corners of Bellatrix's lips curl into a smile, and her voice drips with malice.

'Oh, I think you do,' she coos. 'Severus Snape never got over poor dead Lily Potter's rejection, so now he's seducing mudbloods half his age into making heart eyes at him.'

Severus wants to rip her throat out with his bare hands, but instead raises his eyebrows nonchalantly.

‘Lily Potter was a momentary attraction of mine,’ he drawls. ‘I soon saw the error of my ways.’

‘And what about the Granger girl?’

The air seems to go cold. Severus forces out an uncaring laugh.

‘The fact that you’d even suggest such a thing indicates that you are madder than I previously thought.’

Bellatrix leers. ‘Mad or not, I saw the way she looked at you.’

‘I’ve known Potter’s little sidekick for years. Could you specify _when_ this incident happened, exactly?’

_You know exactly when._

‘You know exactly when,’ says Bellatrix.

‘I don’t.’

She is breathing hard and fast. ‘When Weasley escaped.’

Severus’s throat goes dry, but he forces himself to say the words anyway.

‘I wouldn’t touch the mudblood if my life depended on it.’

The fierceness in his tone means Bellatrix is taken aback.

_This has gone on far too long._

‘Bella -‘

‘Then why did she call for you to look out?’ Bellatrix counters, a sickening smirk creeping back onto her features. 

_Oh God, she heard that too._

‘Another example of pitiable Gryffindor compassion, I expect. Besides, it might not have been me the mudblood was talking to.’

_End it, end it now, before she’s won -_

Bellatrix’s wand is digging into his neck.

‘Bella,’ murmurs Severus.

‘WHAT?’ screams Bellatrix, the little self-control she has gone. ‘I will get to the bottom of this before the night is through - you won’t be able to weasel your way out of this one -‘

‘You underestimate me, I’m afraid, Bella.’

‘I don’t. I was the only one who never did - you’re a filthy muggle lover, a blood traitor - the Dark Lord will reward me when I tell him of your treachery -‘ Severus is showered with flecks of spit.

‘All lies, I’m afraid. There is nothing between me and the Granger girl.’

He can’t bring himself to call Hermione mudblood anymore, even if he’s pretending.

‘But if you are so insistent on spinning filthy lies about me to the Dark Lord, I have no option but to do the same in return.’

Bellatrix’s face falls. She begins to nibble furiously on her lower lip. ‘Meaning?’

‘I’ll tell him you are a traitor to the cause. I’ll tell him of your - ah, how should I put it - _intimate_ relations with the Weasley boy before his untimely escape.’

‘I wouldn’t touch that filthy blood traitor if my life -‘

‘If your life depended on it, yes, I know. But the Dark Lord doesn’t, you see.’

‘He’d never believe you -‘ Bellatrix’s eyes are wild with fury, and her grip on her wand is weakening.

‘He’d believe a sane mind over an unstable one.’

At that, Bellatrix’s wand drops from his neck. Severus is fast, and has his own pointed at her before she can blink.

‘You fucking bastard,’ she hisses.

_You’d think I’d never been called that before._

Severus hides his relief with a smirk. ‘Goodbye, Bella. And don’t let me catch you spreading vile rumours again.’

Bellatrix knows when she is beaten. She spits at his feet, and storms from the room.

The second the door closes, Severus leans back against the wall, his heart thumping.

_What’s happening to me? Never before have I come so close to being discovered -_

He grits his teeth together, because he knows Bellatrix will never let him get close enough to modify her memory again.

_She’s volatile. I’ll be returning to Hogwarts in a few days, and Bellatrix will become distracted by something else soon enough. I’ve been on icier slopes before._

Severus can only hope.

_Hope._

Over the years, Severus has forgotten what that’s felt like. Deep down he suspects that Hermione, with her infuriating optimism and stubborn determination to do the right thing, whatever that is, has helped him remember.

_She’ll be back with Weasley now._

Severus presses his forehead against the wall, his hand curling into a fist.

**Hermione**

_Thank you for helping us._

_Why didn’t you save Ron, you bastard -_

_Come with me._

These were all the thoughts that rushed through Hermione’s mind when she saw Severus Snape at the foot of the dais.

She’s worrying, now, that someone might have noticed her looking at him.

_He’s been a double agent for years, he’ll know how to get out of worse situations._

But anxiety continues to gnaw away at Hermione, even when she’s talking to Ron.

A hex gone awry had sliced the skin above his eyebrow, tearing it open. Blood trickles into Ron’s eyes as Hermione gently cleans the wound with a flannel.

‘I missed you,’ Ron whispers.

‘I missed you too,’ Hermione says, and she means it. When she’d seen him again after his rescue, she’d thrown her arms around him, nestling her bushy head into the crook of his neck and never wanting to let go.

‘There.’ She’s finished seeing to the wound.

There’s so much Hermione wants to tell Ron, but she knows he needs to rest. She also doesn’t have the energy to tell him about Severus yet.

‘Hermione -‘

‘Sleep now,’ Hermione murmurs, smoothing Ron’s hair back from his forehead. Suddenly, she feels his fingers intertwining with hers.

‘Hermione.’

The way Ron is looking at her would have made the girl she was one year ago jump for joy.

But she’s older now, and has seen more than anyone should have in a lifetime. Hermione’s head swims with fatigue, her heart feels heavy in her chest and for some reason she can’t bring herself to meet Ron’s gaze.

‘Hermione, I missed you so much. I was ready to die when I thought that they’d killed you.’ His breathing is heavy, and suddenly she realises that his lips are at the base of her neck -

‘Not now, Ron,’ she says gently.

There’s hurt in Ron’s eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it came.

‘No, I - I get it. There’s a lot going on, so I get it if you - if you don’t want to.’

Hermione smiles weakly, and Ron pulls her into his chest.

‘We’ll get through this,’ he says, and kisses her head.

‘We will,’ says Hermione, but she’s unsure. How could she not be?

She can only hope.

They lie still on the uncomfortable bed in the gloomy cavern, but Ron is warm, and Hermione soon drifts off to the sound of his heartbeat.

Men’s faces swim in her dreams, red mingling with black.

-

Ron doesn’t look at her with such affection anymore when she explains to him that Severus saved both her from her Gringotts cell and him from an untimely death. Hermione doesn’t blame him.

_Finding out that the man you’ve hated for years is actually on your side will take a while to accept._

She’s not sure whether she’s thinking about Ron or herself.

Hermione also tells the Order that Severus will try to find the basilisk fang when he returns to Hogwarts, to kill the snake.

At this, Ron, who has been sitting in a corner brooding over the bombshell of information Hermione has dropped on him, jumps up.

‘Hermione, what are you on abou - Snape can’t be trusted!’

There are murmurs of assent from the crowd, the loudest coming from Ginny.

Hermione’s hands begin to tremble. She doesn’t want to argue with Ron, but she truly believes that Severus is their last best hope.

_I have to see him again -_

‘He saved your life, Ron,’ she says.

‘After _torturing_ me!’

Hermione feels like she’s been winded. There’s shouts of fury from the crowd, Ginny’s head is in her hands and Hermione can’t bring herself to look at her best friend. A hideous pool of guilt is settling in her gut.

_If he was going to torture you, then why would you expect him to treat Ron any differently?_

Ron’s staring at her, and the hurt in his eyes is heartbreaking. Hermione wants to reply, to say she’s sorry, but a storm of emotions has broken out in her head.

_Too confusing. Too much._

Ron opens his mouth to say something else, but Ginny steps in.

‘Well, that’s settled then. We will break into Hogwarts and steal the basilisk fang ourselves. And even though I’d rather wring the bastard’s neck, we will still need to use Snape -‘

Hermione’s head snaps up. She feels herself beginning to sway on her feet.

‘To locate Voldemort and then hopefully the snake.’

Ron shakes his head, but doesn’t argue any further.

‘That is all,’ says Ginny. ‘We’ll start planning the operation in one hour’s time.’

Hermione has said all she needs to say, and starts pushing her way through the crowd.

_Can’t breathe can’t breathe -_

Accusatory eyes follow her all the way to her part of the cavern.

Ron doesn’t follow.

Hermione collapses into bed, her vision swimming, and pulls the blankets over her head. 


	7. Lament

**Hermione**

The village of Hogsmeade is nestled under a cloudy sky. Still dizzy from the aftershocks of apparition, Hermione follows Ginny, Ron and Luna, all of them having taken Polyjuice potion earlier to avoid being recognised. Only they have been chosen for the mission to infiltrate Hogwarts and find the basilisk fang, because they know their former school particularly well.

‘It’s up ahead,’ Ginny whispers. ‘Keep to the corners.’

Hermione winces as painful memories of better times in the Three Broomsticks flood through her. She glances at Ron, and even though he’s disguised as a Muggle stranger, knows he’s thinking the same thing. It’s still frosty between them, but Ron will thaw eventually, she knows it. Whether the guilt that seems to follow Hermione around everywhere nowadays will ever go is another question altogether.

They’re nearing the door of the Three Broomsticks. It doesn’t look anywhere near as inviting as it used to - the windows have been blacked out, and wanted posters are stuck haphazardly to the walls.

With a chill, Hermione notices her own face staring back at her through lidded eyes.

A few Ravenclaws, huddled together against the brisk autumn wind, push open the door.

The resistance members sneak in behind them.

The toasty smell of Butterbeer hits Hermione like a brick, and she feels tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. Quickly, she blinks them away.

_I miss sitting and laughing here with Harry and Ron, I miss my parents, I miss when a certain man was just an infuriating Potions master to me -_

Ron’s looking at her. A small, sad smile is on his lips.

_I wish I could go back too, Ron._

Hermione finds his hand and squeezes it. He doesn’t pull away.

‘Over here! Quickly!’ Hermione recognises Madame Rosmerta, the landlady. Her eyes are hollow with fear, and she’s beckoning them towards the small room behind the bar.

Ginny motions for the others to follow.

‘Thank you for doing this, Rosmerta,’ stutters Ron, as the door of the room closes behind them. Hermione allows herself a small grin. _He always fancied her._

‘Much appreciated, whoever you are,’ says Rosmerta. ‘But there’s no time for any of that now. Death Eaters everywhere, even one in Dumbledore’s old office, Merlin help me -‘

Hermione feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She notices Ron looking at her strangely, and looks away.

‘Have you got the Polyjuice potion, Rosmerta?’ asks Ginny hurriedly.

‘What? Oh, yes. Swiped a few hairs off four third years a couple days ago and added them to a brew I already had. Here.’ She hands them each a vial.

‘Cheers everyone,’ says Ron, and knocks his back, grimacing at the taste. Hermione, Ginny and Luna follow suit.

‘It tastes like the dirigible plums Daddy grows,’ Luna muses.

Hermione can feel herself shrinking. The middle-aged women she was previously disguised as is now a pale blonde third year. Ron stares at her.

‘Malfoy never told us he had a sister!’

For the first time in what feels like forever, Hermione laughs. She elbows Ron gently.

‘The group of friends you’re disguised as have booked a table in ten minutes,’ says Rosmerta.

‘Good,’ says Ginny. ‘Tell them there’s something they need to see in here, Rosmerta, and we’ll stun them when they come in and wipe their memories. Hide the bodies until we return.’

The landlady nods.

-

Half an hour later, four third years join the crowd trudging up the familiar path leading to Hogwarts. Ahead of them, the castle that was their home for seven years looms. Hermione doesn’t know if she’s imagining it, but the lights shining through the windows seem distinctly less warm and welcoming than she remembers.

She doesn’t want to see what her childhood refuge has become under Voldemort’s rule.

 _Childhood._ It’s something Hermione’s lost sight of now, a breadcrumb trail she’s stopped following.

 _I never made it home. I got lost in the woods instead._

‘You checked your person’s timetable yet, Hermione?’ Ron’s whisper pulls her out of her thoughts.

The plan is that they will each go to the next lesson of the person they’re disguised as, and then ask to go to the toilet. They’ll meet in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom - for a fleeting moment, Hermione wonders whether she’s still there, circling the drain - and then open the Chamber of Secrets. Once they’ve got the fang, they’ll meet back in front of the Gryffindor common room, and then find Severus to help locate Voldemort and the snake. Then they’ll return to the Three Broomsticks and revive the poor third years.

 _All in time for their next lesson!_ Hermione thinks, slightly hysterically.

They’re nearing the huge, iron-wrought gates of the school. Hermione shivers when she notices who’s guarding them.

_Death Eaters._

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Ron swears under his breath.

‘Stay calm, everyone,’ whispers Ginny.

Hermione’s hands shake in the cold wind as she fumbles with her timetable. She scans the page quickly.

_Mills, Joanna._

_Lesson, 14:00 - 15:00._

_Potions._

_Professor: Severus Snape._

Hermione’s first instinct is to hide the timetable from Ron. She stuffs it back into the pocket of Joanna’s robe, hating herself as she does so. 

_Oh God oh God oh God -_

She didn’t know the Headmaster still taught potions classes.

_What if I just don’t go?_

For some reason, she doesn’t consider that an option.

Hermione looks up at the Death Eaters at the school gates, and then down again at the pocket of her robe, where her timetable and the name she is afraid to admit means something to her are hidden.

There’s an old proverb she used to see all the time in Muggle books. How did it go?

Oh yes.

_Out of the frying pan, and into the fire._

-

Hermione leans against a corridor wall, breathing heavily. Students rush past her, on the way to their next lesson.

She’s just said goodbye to Ron and the others, and promised to meet them in Myrtle’s bathroom in fifteen minutes. Ron had looked queasy as they parted.

They’d gotten past the Death Eaters at the gates without any major interruptions, only a stop and search, but they weren’t prepared for what came next.

The courtyard.

_Harry’s limp body in Hagrid’s arms and the mountains of corpses piled high, Neville, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Fred -_

Hermione realises that her eyes are shut tight and opens them again. Students have disappeared into their classrooms, and she’s late.

Hermione takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders.

 _For Harry._

The girl walks on.

-

‘Late again, Miss Mills.’ 

‘Sorry Professor,’ Hermione mutters, keeping her head down.

Luckily, he doesn’t give her detention.

As she sits down in an empty seat, trying not to think of all the hours she spent with Harry and Ron in these dungeons, Hermione chances a look at Severus.

_He used to make our lives a misery here once._

_No wonder he was Neville’s Boggart._

He’s writing something down on a piece of parchment, a strong hand somehow managing to grasp the quill elegantly. Hermione watches, suddenly unwillingly entranced, as his hand directs the quill around the parchment.

Then he puts it down.

‘Quiet.’

There’s silence, and Hermione shakes her head, brought back to reality.

‘Today we will be brewing a blood-replenishing potion.’ Severus stands up and turns around. ‘Here are your instructions.’ Writing appears on the blackboard and he turns around again, surveying the class.

His eyes are still as black as ever. 

‘You have one hour.’

The familiar sound of students fumbling to set up their workspaces is faint to her ears.

‘Miss Mills!’

‘Huh?’

‘Stop gazing into the distance and begin your work.’

Hermione feels her cheeks flush. She lowers her head, praying she doesn’t give something away that will mean Severus recognises her, and realises how much time she’s wasted.

_The others will have left their classrooms soon._

Hermione gulps, and then raises her hand.

_He’s not going to like this._

‘Professor?’ She says tentatively, in a voice she hopes sounds nothing like her own.

Severus looks up, and Hermione’s heart throbs as she feels his eyes boring into hers. He raises an eyebrow.

‘Yes, Miss Mills?’

‘Please may I go to the bathroom?’

Immediately, Severus looks back down at the work he’s marking.With a jolt of fear, Hermione realises she knows him well enough now to know exactly what he’s going to say.

‘You arrive late to my lesson, and then want to leave after five minutes?’

A few students begin to snigger.

‘I’m sorry, sir, but -‘

‘That will do, Miss Mills. Carry on with your potion, or it’ll be detention.’

Hermione is beginning to panic.

 _They will all be in Myrtle’s bathroom by now._

‘Sir, please -‘

‘Sit _down,_ Miss Mills.’

She realises she’s got out of her chair, but the force in her former Professor’s voice knocks Hermione back down.

More people are beginning to laugh. Hermione looks down, and feels herself blushing to the roots of her hair.

 _My hair -_

She claps a hand to her scalp.

The smooth blonde locks of the third year she’s disguised as are slowly but surely turning frizzier.

_Shit._

Hermione says a mental prayer for Joanna, and takes one last look at Severus.

She’s trying to take in as much of him as she can through her eyes.

Then, she runs for it.

-

Of course he has to follow.

‘Miss Mills!’

Hermione keeps on running, her hand desperately trying to cover her hair that is now its usual bushy brown. Unfortunately, Severus is tall, and after a few quick strides has caught up with her.

‘Miss Mills, I -‘

He stares at her, and the woman he now recognises as Hermione Granger stares back.

After a few seconds, Severus pulls himself together.

‘In here. You can’t be seen.’

His hand closes around her arm, and Hermione shivers.

She’s pulled into an empty classroom, and watches as Severus turns the key in the lock.

For a moment, there’s silence. Warm autumn light floods through a window, illuminating the silhouettes of their shadows on the wooden floor.

Hermione opens her mouth to speak, but Severus gets there first.

‘Stay here. I will find another teacher to reside over my lesson, and then I will return.’

Black robes swell out behind him as he disappears from view, and Hermione collapses into a chair.

_No, no, stay, please -_

Her forehead is clammy with sweat.

_I need to see him._

A clock ticks in the corner, and Hermione is left alone with her thoughts.

_There’s no point denying it anymore._

_Denying what?_

_You know what._

She tries to distract herself by thinking about where Ron and the others are. The Polyjuice has worn off and she’s herself again - she can’t risk the long journey from the dungeons to Myrtle’s bathroom.

 _I’ll have to skip to Part Three of the plan and meet them in front of the Gryffindor common room._

Hermione looks at the clock. She still has three quarters of an hour left before she needs to leave.

 _With Severus?_

She doesn’t want to think about it.

Hermione is so lost in her tangle of thoughts that when the door to the classroom opens again, she nearly falls off her chair.

He doesn’t make his usual snide comment, but when Hermione sees Severus’s face, she knows why.

It’s pale with fear.

‘What are you doing here?’ he snarls, his voice unnaturally shaky. ‘I know Gryffindors have a penchant for risking their necks, but this - Hogwarts is swarming with Death Eaters!’

‘I -‘

‘You could have been killed!’

Hermione realises that his hands are shaking.

‘Explain, Hermione, and explain fast.’

 _Hermione -_

She sways on her feet.

Then, she explains.

-

‘And we’re supposed to meet in front of the Gryffindor common room in -‘ Hermione glances at the clock. ‘Half an hour.’

‘We?’

She takes a breath. ‘Yes, we. The resistance needs you to tell us where to find Voldemort and the snake. We need you to tell us where to find his last Horcrux.’

Severus places a hand on a desk. It’s still shaking.

‘Is that all?’

Hermione nods, lightheaded with anxiety and exhaustion. ‘Yes.’

He slumps onto a chair. A chill like a gust of arctic wind passes through her bones as Severus fixes his gaze on hers. His eyes are a never-ending dark, like tunnels without an end, and infinitely sad.

She looks into his eyes, and the pain of the last few months suddenly becomes too much.

Hermione knows that she’s too tired to stop the tears that are forming and just lets them fall. They trickle down her cheeks as Severus stares at her.

 _Isn’t he - isn’t he going to_ do _anything? Is he just going to sit there?_

All of a sudden she wants to scream at him.

She wants to yell at him to hold her, and wipe away her tears, and tell her that it will all be ok in the end.

She does neither.

Little streams flow down Hermione’s face, and soon they become rivers, and soon they become oceans and she’s sobbing so much she can’t see anymore, and Severus just looks at her.

As impassive as ever, although she knows him well enough to see that he doesn’t take pleasure in her pain.

She’s not sure what she expected.

 _A hug? A few kind words? Any show of affection? What, from_ him?

_Hermione, you stupid, stupid -_

‘What do you have to cry about?’

His deep voice makes her jump. Severus is holding a flask of firewhisky in his hand, and Hermione doesn’t care where he’s got it from, probably had it in his robes somewhere, or how long she’s been crying for, because she closes the space between them with two quick strides and slaps him across the face.

His head is knocked back from the sheer force of the blow.

‘What do I have to cry about?’ Hermione screams. She doesn’t care if people outside can hear her, not anymore. ‘What do I have to cry about? Harry is _dead_. He was my best friend, and our last best hope, and now he’s _gone. Forever._ Your master mutilated his dead body like he was a fucking rag doll, and -‘

Her voice breaks. It doesn’t sound like hers anymore. It’s raw and rough, like a wounded animal instead of a human being. 

‘And he killed all my other friends too, and wants to wipe out everyone who’s like me and we somehow have to stop him even though Harry’s gone, and then I’m kept in the dark for _months_ with my sanity on knife’s edge -‘

_Sanity._

_Has that slipped through my fingers too?_

‘And then I nearly see Ron die and find out you tortured him -‘

Severus flinches. A swollen red mark has bloomed on his cheek from the slap. Guilt rises in Hermione’s heart and she wants to tend to the hurt she’s caused, to make it better, to cover it up, anything, but words won’t stop falling out of her mouth.

‘And now he hates me, and I feel so guilty all the time, and I just want to be little again and my _parents -_ oh _god -‘_

Their absence has ripped a tear in her soul that Hermione’s beginning to accept may never heal.

‘And we have to defeat Voldemort but I have no idea how, really, no-one does, not without Harry -‘

Severus is hunched over, so she can’t see his face.

_And I’m so confused all the time, I want to see you, talk to you, be with you and I hate it I hate it I hate myself and I can’t figure out what’s happened to me, what was the point in all my good grades and O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s and being the brightest witch of my age if I just can’t figure this out, why can’t I just understand, understand me, and you, and us together -_

But try as she might, Hermione can’t put this into words, so she says the first thing that comes to mind.

‘Harry,’ she mutters, her anger gone. ‘Harry, Harry, my best friend, our last best hope, Harry -‘

_Severus, Severus, Severus._

‘Your last best hope?’

Hermione’s head snaps up. Severus is sitting up. All the blood has drained from his face, and he’s trembling. With what, she doesn’t know. Ideas rush through her mind, some which she knows are slightly mad.

_Fear? Exhaustion? Anger?_

_Lust?_

_Don’t be ridiculous._

_L -_

‘I thought you were more optimistic than that,’ he manages to drawl.

Hermione wants to lie in the corner of the room, curl into a ball and never wake up.

‘I was once,’ she mutters.

There’s a pause.

‘No more?’

He’s suddenly quiet.

_Why does he care?_

‘Why do you care?’

There’s a flash of something in his eyes that Hermione is almost able to grasp, to understand, _I need to understand -_

His Adam’s apple strains against his throat as Severus gulps. If she was still in her Gringotts cell, Hermione would have relished this chance at making one of her captors uncomfortable. Now, the fight has gone out of her.

_Has it?_

‘I don’t know,’ Severus murmurs. ‘It just - meant something.’

He takes another swig from his flask, turning away.

‘It’s not all gone,’ Hermione spits.

His head darts around, and Hermione manages to find deep within her some of the Gryffindor courage that once meant so much.

‘There’s always hope,’ she whispers.

Suddenly, her head starts to spin, and she feels like she’s going to faint. Hermione finds the nearest seat, which happens to be the bench Severus is sitting on, and collapses. She puts her head in her hands.

There’s a faint smell of old books and mint, woven into the warmth of the firewhisky.

‘But right now,’ Hermione mutters, ‘I’m exhausted. Nearly all the people I love are dead and my future is looking remarkably bleak. So I do have a reason to cry… _Severus.’_

She feels him stiffen beside her when she says his name. Something makes Hermione sit up and take Severus’s flask from him. He’s drunk a lot, she notices, before putting the flask to her own lips, feeling the heat of the whisky tickle her insides and burn her trepidation away.

‘What’s your reason?’ 

The clock on the wall is ticking and time is running out, but Hermione doesn’t care. She has to hear what he says. She has to understand.

After what seems like a lifetime, Severus’s voice rings out across the empty classroom.

It’s the loneliest sound Hermione’s ever heard in her life.

 _We’re too old for this world,_ she realises. _Two shipwrecked souls clinging desperately onto something, and we don’t even know what._

‘There was a girl,’ he says, his voice slurring a little from the alcohol.

‘What was her name?’ Hermione asks.

She loves books and their stories, but she’s not sure if she wants to hear this one.

‘Lily.’

-

The warm autumn light is fading. Hermione stands at the classroom window and watches as the sun begins its slow descent over the forest.

She can’t stop what she’s about to say.

‘Sometimes, when you love someone, you do what’s best for them.’

She looks at the clock. Five minutes left.

‘Even if it hurts you to do it.’

He doesn’t respond. Hermione turns away from the window.

It’s a pitiful figure that she turns away for.

Severus is sitting slumped under the weight of his own mistakes and hate and love and guilt.

At that moment, Hermione realises just how much pain humans manage to cause one another and themselves.

‘You did bad things,’ she whispers, sitting down next to him. Severus lets out another ragged sob. ‘But you also did the right thing, becoming a double agent and protecting Harry afterwards.’

Hermione’s head is still reeling with the information she’s just been given.

_Severus loved Harry’s mum, Harry’s dad bullied him, Severus is the reason Harry’s parents are dead because he told Voldemort about the prophecy -_

Hermione swallows the bile that rises in her throat.

_But he’s spent the rest of his life paying for what he did._

‘I did the right thing?’ Severus’s voice is heavy with grief. ‘How? I - I killed her -‘ His shoulders start to shake with sobs again. ‘Hermione, I’m the reason the woman I love is _dead -‘_

_The woman he loves -_

Hermione goes cold.

_If he loved her so much, then why did he make her son’s life a misery?_

Hermione asks him, unable to keep the sting from her tone.

The sudden fury that appears in Severus’s expression means that for a moment, she’s scared he’ll hit her too.

Hermione flinches, and then his eyes seem to flood over with defeat.

‘I don’t know,’ he croaks. ‘I just - I’m a bad man, Hermione.’

Hermione doesn’t disagree. The bubble of self-hatred she’s grown so used to begins to swell up inside her, but this time, it’s worse, it’s all-consuming, because she knows what she’s going to do -

_He’s a bad man, an awful human being, he even admitted it himself. But -_

‘Maybe you’re just - complicated,’ Hermione murmurs. She doesn’t know if she’s lying or not.

It’s cliché, like something she’d hear in the Muggle films her and Harry used to force Ron to watch just to see his reaction.

_Ron and Harry -_

There’s a ghost of a smile on Severus’s face.

_I’m sorry._

‘You’re - very intelligent. Has anyone ever told you?’

Hermione laughs, even though happy is the last thing she feels right now.

‘Not you, apparently. You called me an insufferable know-it-all.’

‘And I am sorry for it.’ Hermione knows he means what he says.

‘Apology accepted.’

She looks into his eyes again, eyes the colour of the night sky. Uncertain, infinite and endlessly complicated.

Hermione knows now, even after what he’s told her, that she will never understand Severus Snape.

And the thought terrifies her.

 _But some things just can’t be understood_. 

Hermione leans forward, her heart beating furiously against her ribcage, and presses her lips to his.


	8. Interlude

Bellatrix drones on, her breathless voice and admiring eyes boring him.

Tom Riddle decides to alleviate that boredom.

He begins to drift through her thoughts and memories with ease, feeling a small, shrivelled spark of something like joy when he sees that Bellatrix remains oblivious. 

_She was never a good occlumens._

Minutes later, Voldemort has still not found anything of interest, and the familiar hiss of rage is beginning to form in his throat. He’s about to open his mouth and scream for Bellatrix to get out when something catches his eye.

A memory wafts by, and he reaches out and catches it.

Bellatrix’s wand is pointed at Snape’s face.

‘Still nursing an attraction for mudblood women, Snape?’

_Mudblood women - she can’t still be talking about Potter’s dead mother, Severus assured me that he had finished with her long ago -_

Their conversation continues, and Voldemort listens intently and with increasing intrigue. Snape is making more excuses about Lily Potter, and for a small, disappointing moment he thinks this will be nothing he’s not heard before, until -

‘And what about the Granger girl?’

For a moment, a dense fog of confusion seems to cloud his mind.

Then it clears.

Voldemort lets go of the memory.

‘Bella, get out.’

She’s hurt, of course, but he has no time for her protestations, not that he ever did in the first place.

‘But I - yes, my lord.’

She scuttles from the room like an oversized roach, and Voldemort leans back in his seat, steepling his skeletal fingers under his chin. There was no need to listen to any more of the memory, because Bellatrix has not informed him of any such altercation, meaning that Snape managed to find a way out.

 _Not for long._

A small twinge of disappointment nags at him, but it’s gone as soon as it came, because he has long since learnt that there is no-one in this world who can be trusted.

He had had his suspicions when he’d seen the normally so emotionless Snape a little too focused at Weasley’s botched execution, of course, but he’d searched his mind and found nothing to be unusual.Besides, he would not have expected his most loyal servant, the man who had killed Dumbledore, to betray him.His fingers itch for his wand, but he controls his anger.

_Later. I must consider the possible options, and then I will have blood._

A noise interrupts his chain of thought, and Voldemort looks to see Nagini slithering on her belly towards him.

 _But why Potter’s little sidekick? Now that the war is won, Snape could have any pureblooded woman he wanted -_

Nagini hisses as his nails dig into her skin with fury.

_So why a mudblood, not to mention a traitor to our cause?_

The Dark Lord’s mouth contorts with disgust.

_Perhaps Severus’s desire for mudbloods never truly left him._

The snake curls around his shoulders, and he thinks.


End file.
